“A
liquid buildup still obtains, shafting all these precious years of corn starch
perjury, cleaving to Your Nuke’s pristine lorry choirs,” she muses to no one in
particulate resemblance, phasing down to bodily schematics.

Wherewithal
our Lola grows beneath the sleeping cities, swapping stitched security with
LL-1 in cloning bedsprings, huddling down the subtle consciousness to LL-n and
n+1, defying all affinity for cross-bred limitation blur. The center fans from
Feastin’ She’sbored to Mud-Atlantis hinterland, propping up the Chesscanspeak
to Lungley’s hallowed corridors to skylit transfer’s existential placemat fog
of Buggy Fatima’s liar’s knuckles, black bequeathed to Dearth in funnel jumps
to spurts unknown to homespun Grayliens alone, where hybrids go by escargot in
tawdry tandem oxen yoke assemblage escort solely by an EBGB boy toy, slacking
off to Dolce Vita, flared to males beneath Lost Annulus and thence to Sandy
Eggo’s staging groin for jump to Doyouwanna, Days Ago, by spatial ardor phlegm against
the Puntagain’s embattled tossers.

John Pursch lives in Tucson,
Arizona. His work has been nominated for Best of the Net and has appeared in many
literary journals. An accomplished memorist, he recently recited the first 2,104
digits of pi from memory; check out his pi-related video at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l33aUs7obVc
. A collection of his poetry, Intunesia,
is available at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/whiteskybooks.
He’s @johnpursch on Twitter and john.pursch on Facebook.